


Until I Saw You

by ashapoop



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Episode 1, I didn't cry writing this, M/M, Soulmate-Seeing color, Soulmates, VictUuri, i totally did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:06:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9861761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashapoop/pseuds/ashapoop
Summary: Victor Nikiforov didn’t believe in soulmates. The idea seemed absurd, how could one possibly suddenly see color? When he was younger, curled up against his mother as he was read a story, he’d often ask his mother what red looked like, how it felt to see purple, what green was. She never knew, though, because she didn’t see colors either. That was the root of it all for Victor, until he got older and realized the statistical improbability of finding one certain person in this world in such a short lifetime. It was impossible, naive, and stupid.





	1. Chapter 1

Victor Nikiforov didn’t believe in soulmates. The idea seemed absurd, how could one possibly suddenly see color? When he was younger, curled up against his mother as he was read a story, he’d often ask his mother what red looked like, how it felt to see purple, what green was. She never knew, though, because she didn’t see colors either. That was the root of it all for Victor, until he got older and realized the statistical improbability of finding one certain person in this world in such a short lifetime. It was impossible, naive, and stupid. 

Everything else in life came easy to Victor. He was able to make and keep friends, was incredibly handsome, and had a way with words that many could hardly comprehend. Even on a bad day, Nikiforov was soft, whether in tone or expression. He cried at animated films and put his poodle Makkachin above most people, the only constant he really needed. His skill on the ice was unparalleled, even at age 16, and every year he only grew and improved and inspired thousands. 

As he continued in his skating career, he met people from all around the world who gave such vivid descriptions of the colors he wasn’t sure ever existed. They would tell him about the catch of breath they had when light washed purples broke out across the sky as the sun was setting, about the soft green grass that was a constant comfort. That’s stupid, Victor always thought, _it’s more constant to see hues of grey too._ But even at night as he laid in bed, he wondered what life would be like with colors; what would change? How would he be if he ever met that one person? 

By the time Victor turned 27, he had all but given up. So many people around his age, whether they saw color or not, were engaged or married or had children and still he went home alone to his dog each night. He scrolled through Instagram and saw happy couples and carelessly thrown around descriptions mentioning a color. _I could drown in his brown eyes._ What did that even mean? On social media, his fellow skater JJ Leroy seemed to be the worst. He’d post photos of the day with vivid color descriptions of the world around him which he later told Nikiforov was for his younger fans. Yet still a part of him yearned for that imagery. Until it was shaken away by what he deemed his more rational mind. 

At the Grand Prix final in Sochi, Victor found himself hounded by reporters once again, asking if he had seen color yet. He waved them off with an easy smile, running a hand through his recently cut hair, before zipping up his warm up jacket and saying he needed to get on the ice. If he opened his mouth and talked about the subject, he might be able to not keep some words back. He may paint himself in a different light through a serious topic, media outlets describing him as a man who only wants to look up to his fans and see the colors of the Russian flags in the stands, the man who wants to see the color of his four Grand Prix medals, the man who is so desperate for love but still cannot find it.

When it was time for Victor’s free skate, he took a slow breath and quickly brought to the front of his mind all the things he repressed. As the notes sounded and his feet began to move, he let his eyes ablaze with the things he kept most to himself. No matter how easy it seemed to write off the existence of soulmates, of colors, there was always a curious side to Victor that never let these ideas sit. There was a part of himself that yearned for a new perspective, a new adventure, a new life. He wanted to know love, and he wanted to love because god he had so much love to give. His arms reached out as he skated but still not far enough, they still couldn’t brush the hand of whoever he was destined to be with. They still never could grab a hold of what he wanted most. 

On the podium, Victor stood tall, beaming as he waved to the crowd before ducking his head as he was presented with his fifth Grand Prix gold medal. Behind the smile, he was left with a dull ache that he pushed down and away as he kissed the medal for a photo, the dull ache of an envisioned life from his free skate that was so out of reach. But still, he smiled for the camera, for the reporters, for his fans as he always did. 

“Yuri, about your free performance,” Victor said as he breezed through the entrance hallway of the arena with Yuri Plisetsky at his side. “The step sequence could use more--.”  
“I won, so who cares?” the shorter boy asked, throwing his head back as he prepared for another lecture from the _oh so talented_ Victor Nikiforov. “Quit nagging, Victor.” 

As the two stopped when they reached their coach, Victor let out a slow breath as he shook his head at the younger skater. He was so talented, perhaps even more so than he was at that age, but still Victor only wanted to see him improve. As he watched Yuri’s face, he noticed him looking at something behind Victor, a distant look in the blonde’s eyes. Victor turned around to try and see what Yuri was looking at and saw a young man he recognized as another skater -- Japanese? -- and the two met eyes. 

It happened as if candle wax was melting down Victor’s vision. His heart rate slowed and his hands shook as he realized what was happening. Everything was different now, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of this man whose name he didn’t even know. There was a sparkle in those eyes hidden behind colored frames, one that probably matched his own, and Victor’s face broke out into a beautiful smile as his eyes burned. The man before him was so beautiful, so full of life and so full of color. His breath hitched as he tried to calm himself, hearing Yakov say something as if the two were underwater. How could he possibly focus on anything when this man, his _soulmate_ , was right before him? It was all that he ever wanted, what he was searching for for so long, and now that this man was so close, he couldn’t stop his quick pace. He needed to touch him, to know that he was real, to know that this was all actually happening. 

Standing before him, he saw the man was speechless. Victor let out a soft laugh, throat getting tight with emotion, as his hand reached out to brush along his soulmate’s jaw before crooking under his chin. Letting out a slow breath, he saw the rush of people around him in his peripherals but only found himself looking forward. 

“It’s you,” he said quietly, letting out another choked laugh. “It’s finally you.” 

And without another word, he looked from the man’s eyes to his lips, placing a soft kiss on his soulmate’s lips.


	2. When I Saw You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri Katsuki never had a doubt about the existence of soulmates. The thought of finding someone who was born to complete you was something that filled Yuri with hope, gave him something to look forward to when days got hard. At night when he and Mari would snuggle closer to their mother, she would tell them about the day she had first met their father. Yuri would listen with eyes full of wonder as he heard about the beautiful blue skies and soft pink cherry blossoms that often got stuck in her hair. As Yuri grew, he would hold tightly onto his mother’s hand and point at anything in his vision, asking her what color it was. The idea that one day Yuri would find someone who would fill his world with color was something that sent a rush through him, and he’d spend his whole life looking. It was alluring, exciting, and beautiful.

Yuri Katsuki never had a doubt about the existence of soulmates. The thought of finding someone who was born to complete you was something that filled Yuri with hope, gave him something to look forward to when days got hard. At night when he and Mari would snuggle closer to their mother, she would tell them about the day she had first met their father. Yuri would listen with eyes full of wonder as he heard about the beautiful blue skies and soft pink cherry blossoms that often got stuck in her hair. As Yuri grew, he would hold tightly onto his mother’s hand and point at anything in his vision, asking her what color it was. The idea that one day Yuri would find someone who would fill his world with color was something that sent a rush through him, and he’d spend his whole life looking. It was alluring, exciting, and beautiful.

Growing up as a child, Yuri seemed to frequently find himself struggling. Always having some extra weight on him, the small Japanese boy was frequently bullied, especially at the ice rink that was easily a second home. Anxiety filled young Katsuki with every breath he took, but with the help of his friend Yuuko he found an outlet through pushing himself in his skating abilities. When it came the time of year for the World Championships, Yuri and Yuuko found themselves hunched in front of a small TV at Yu-topia Katsuki, eagerly watching the Junior division that they hoped to someday join. And that was when it all changed for Yuri Katsuki. 

Yuri hadn’t even heard the name, but as the beautiful boy skated to the center of the rink, Yuri’s heart rate slowed. As they zoomed in on the skater’s face, Yuri blinked a few times as he watched the screen change, the colors on the screen… becoming more than grey. He rubbed his eyes and propelled himself closer to the screen, unable to hear Yuuko behind him as he squinted. Before him were beautiful shades that he couldn’t comprehend had existed before this day, and the colors only moved and blurred and changed as this beautiful boy skated. He let out a laugh as he shook his head, sitting back on his heels before he felt a burst of joy. 

“I can see colors!” he yelled, voice bouncing off the walls and shocking everyone around them. “I can see them, Yuuko!” 

He watched with a throbbing heart and shaking hands as the boy with hair like silver silk finished his routine. He was flawless, he was perfect. He was… 

“Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuko said softly. “Victor Nikiforov from Russia.” 

From that day on, Yuri worked harder on his skating than he ever thought possible. He was willing to do whatever it took to one day get on the same ice as Victor, his soulmate. Sleepless nights were a usual for him and his ballet instructor, Minako Okukawa, was all too happy to let her student spend those nights in her studio. Yuri found his body slimming and his abilities growing as he aged, entering competitions and passing qualifications until he found himself on the very same ice he first saw Victor Nikiforov. Catching the eye of American coach Celestino Cialdini, Yuri accepted the offer to train in Detroit as he knew it would get him only that much closer to meeting him. 

When Yuri finally qualified for the Grand Prix final in the senior division, he couldn’t contain his excitement as he called Yuuko in tears. Once he hung up the phone, though, that’s when the anxiety settled in. He was going to meet Victor… after all this time he could be face to face with his soulmate. What if he didn’t care? What if every negative scenario Yuri had painted since age 12 was what came true? What if Victor thought that his skating was a joke, that he was a joke? He couldn’t focus on that, though. He needed to stay positive -- for Victor, for Celestino, for himself. 

The anxiety never subsided, though, even when Yuri Katsuki skated to the center of the ice. The music played and the lights were so hot and the eyes of so many watching with such high expectations… it was so much. It was too much. That’s why, the second he was finished in the kiss and cry with a score that made his face burn with shame, he excused himself to the bathroom with a grumble before locking himself in the first stall he pushed open, falling onto the seat and letting his heart break again and again as he tried to breathe. He wouldn’t let himself cry, though, not yet. He didn’t want his mother to hear him crying, he thought as he dialed the familiar number.

“Hello? Mom, were you sleeping?” he asked into the phone.   
“Yes.”   
“Sorry.”  
“I did see you, though!”   
“Oh, you were watching on TV?”   
“We all were, the town came round to watch you at the bath house!”   
“Huh? A public viewing?”  
“Of course! We were all so proud!”   
“Please! I’m so embarrassed!”   
“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s hard. We know.”   
“I’m sorry... I messed up.” 

Yuri let his hand holding his phone up drop against his leg as, with tears spilling from his eyes, he hung up the phone. She would never say it out loud but he knew she was disappointed. She had to have been, all of Hasetsu had to have been. He was their namesake in this sport and he failed them like this. Letting out soft hiccups of sobs, he brought his hands to his face as his tears fell freely now, pooling up in his glasses. 

Hearing a loud kick to the stall door, Yuri shot up with a loud gasp, heart jumping into his throat at the surprise of the sound. He scrambled to stand up and opened the door slowly, hoping that the look on his face wasn’t too pathetic. With a muttered apology, his gaze landed on a pair of red sneakers before they slowly crawled up the opposite boy’s body, reaching his face, an expression twisted up in anger and disgust. Despite his expression, Yuuri would recognize that face anywhere. 

The Junior Grand Prix Final gold medalist… Yuri Plisetsky. 

The Russian punk was looking at him like a piece of trash, Katsuki thought as he held back a shiver. If looks could kill, this teenager would have him six feet under. Why the hell was he looking at him like that? 

“Hey,” the blonde said, pointing a finger in Yuri’s face. “I’m competing in the senior division next year. We don’t need two Yuri’s in the same bracket. Incompetents like you should just retire already. Moron!” 

Yuri swallowed hard as he took in the boy’s words, brows coming together, letting out a slow breath as he exited the restroom. His eyes fell shut as he let out another breath, this one more shaky, gripping the stall wall. Maybe Plisetsky was right -- he had no right being here, skating among all these people who were so talented. Despite how many hours he put in, he still came out looking like a fool. How could Victor ever love someone who performed like this? How could Victor ever love someone like Yuri Katsuki?

With a quick wipe of the eyes, Yuri slipped out of the bathroom and regrouped with Celestino as they made their way to the lobby of the building. It was time to go home, back to Hasetsu, until he decided what he wanted to do. Even though it meant more time without seeing Victor… he knew that his soulmate deserved better. His heart ached as he took slow breaths, unable to focus on what Celestino was saying to him. 

“Yuri,” a voice interrupted, cutting through the static in Yuri’s mind. 

Yuri’s head shot up as he looked for who had said his name, landing on a familiar white and red track suit enveloping a man with beautiful silver hair. Yuri’s heart stopped and the world seemed to brighten around the man’s figure, taking Yuri’s breath away. Being so close to him, so close to Victor Nikiforov, it was something Yuri had only dreamed about. 

“About your free performance. The step sequence could use more--.” 

Of course he was talking to Plisetsky, Yuri thought with almost a pitiful laugh. He let his head fall once again, the hope bubbling in him fading quickly. Shaking his head, he adjusted his glasses before glancing back up, meeting the cold stare of the younger Yuri, chilling him again. The longer their eyes met, though, the more curious the silver haired man got and Yuri glanced over just in time for their eyes to meet. 

Time slowed as Yuri looked into Victor’s oceanic eyes, balling his hands into fists as a small smile crossed his lips. He ignored the flames licking beneath his skin and felt the tug in his heart to go to him, to run his hand along the older man’s cheek, but he was as mobile as a statue in that moment. Seeing the sparkle in Victor’s eye brought out a bubbled laugh from the Japanese man as he blinked quickly to get his eyes to stop burning. Victor was walking towards him quickly and Yuri’s mouth open and closed like a fish. There was a joy in Victor’s eyes that made the tears trail down Yuri’s cheeks, eye closing as he felt Victor’s hand on his face, reaching a hand of his own out to grab the Russian’s arm. Opening his eyes, his smile climbed until his cheeks ached and he flushed at Victor’s words. 

“It was always you,” Yuri whispered before their lips were connected and Yuri felt at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the comments and kudos, I'm so glad that you enjoyed these little stories! It means a lot that you've given this your time! :) 
> 
> This is probably all I'll be writing for this verse but hopefully sooner rather than later, I'll be posting a dancer/Your Name AU for Victuuri!

**Author's Note:**

> A.N. // I hope that you guys enjoy this! I may make one from Yuuri's POV so possibly comment if you'd like to see that? Woo god damn do I love Victuuri.


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